Monday, January 26, 2015

Trekking In Tekal

Bangalore is
surrounded by hilly outcrops, streams, rivulets, patches of forest and other
places where one can spend a day trekking, climbing or swimming. Of course, these have become more inhabited,
polluted and/or crowded with visitors over the years. One exception is the mammoth rock cluster called
Tekal. Unbroken by regular paths or green cover, it looks more
daunting perhaps than it actually is. There are no religious trails or
holy sites at the top of the hill, so the number of visitors is relatively small. It is, of course, a haven for rock climbers,
and this is how my adventures on Tekal began – and continued- each trip being
memorable for its uncomfortable moments (and also, once I relaxed, for the
stark beauty of the place).

The first
time I visited, perhaps twenty years ago, was with my husband and some of his friends who were keen rock climbers.
By keen I mean that one of them won first position in the state wall
climbing contest. Along with her were
two others who didn’t do too badly in the contest either, one has now started a
full time trekking company, and so on. I myself am no climber and have a very
average head for heights, so you can imagine my initial feelings when I saw
rock upon rock that I had to clamber over.

Appearances are deceptive in Tekal; though it initially looks insurmountable, almost everyone reaches the top (and returns relatively unscathed!) for
there are just a few tricky sections, and the rocks are not as slippery as they
might appear. The tricky sections, of course, look
innocuous, and vice versa, so one really needs to stop judging a rock by its
looks. One also needs to realize that
one will not slip and fall through the cracks and spaces between rocks that one
has to leap over. Then you can relax and
enjoy the view!

On my
first trek there, I was lagging behind, trying to get familiar with the feel of the
rocks. It didn’t matter how slow I was, for I would eventually reach a point where
everyone else was standing, working out some tricky manoeuvres on a rock. Here I would catch my breath and wait till
they finished and then lag behind some more.
In the middle of our journey we met two barefoot boys from an adjacent village,
who happily leaped (higher and faster than what perhaps was necessary) and
periodically held out their hands to try and get me to move faster. Hands were a big no-no amongst the regulars
(even your own hands, when descending slopes), so I valiantly and successfully
managed on my own two feet. I learnt
some nice things in between all the adrenalin rush; the nicest being
how to climb a chimney, which is perhaps the only kind of rock formation that I thoroughly enjoy climbing – wedging oneself into a crack and magically scaling two
vertical cliffs. I was bruised and
exhausted at the end (having used my hands and butt to slide down steep slopes)
and happy to finally take the local train back to the city.

The second
time round was with my husband’s lab (also known as the RV lab) and I was
mentally prepared for the trip. My husband's cousin (who accompanied us), however wasn’t and she was a bit scared
when we reached the base. Having spent
decades in convents, she let out a volley of Hail Mary’s; lo and behold rescue
arrived in the form of a large goat, which materialized from nowhere and
stood patiently behind her on a rock until she began to move forward. And once she began to climb, there was no looking
back; she managed without much trouble.
After scaling all the difficult parts, we were looking forward to ambling
towards the top, when suddenly we heard a loud angry buzz and looked to see a
cloud of wild bees heading our way. The
slopes that had taken half an hour to climb were descended in about two minutes
– a true test of the power of the mind! As soon as we began our descent, the bees left us alone and we looked back to see
them flying back towards their giant hives that we had not noticed earlier.

The next
trip was also with the RV lab with the addition of one student who was not part of the lab, but
who joined us that day. He was a pleasant
fellow with a habit of ambling aimlessly along. In
those days, I generally went at the very end of the line, partly because I
liked to go at my own pace and partly because I didn’t want anyone to be left
stranded anywhere. So I let this fellow go
ahead but it took me twice as long, especially after we all climbed down some
ravine (why we did this I have no idea, probably just for the experience of it). Anyway, everyone climbed back up and this man
was still ambling below, humming to himself for a while. Even I began to get restless waiting down
there especially because dark clouds were gathering overhead. Finally he began to climb, got stuck in
several places, and had to be pulled to the top by some others. At this stage, it began to rain. Wet rocks are terribly slippery. I wondered what to do. “Throw your shoes up and climb barefoot,”
yelled an unfazed RV. And so I did. The first two throws were unsuccessful; I
couldn’t get them high enough and I hoped the shoes wouldn’t fall into some crack
within the rocks. Third time lucky, and
I managed to climb up and once the rain subsided, climb-slide down along
with the rest of the group. After that I
have given up my polite ways of ‘pehle aap’.

The next
time round was also a trip with the RV lab, I remember one of the research
fellows being extremely scared while going up.
He was convinced he wouldn’t live to tell the tale and promised everyone
a round of (soft) drinks to celebrate, if he returned unharmed! Perhaps everyone ensured he did, or perhaps
he had a safe and smooth ascent and descent, for drinks were generously doled
out at the end of that trip. Everything
was humming along for me, and I was third last this time (the second last
person being RV, who was trying out some tricky rocks as a last minute treat,
and the last person an old friend who was called Hua, who had a knack of attracting
solitary flying kites wherever he went – once the kite began circling above him,
nature and gravity would take over and the inevitable would occur. His name was unfortunately convenient for people
– everyone would look up at the sky and ask “Hua, hua?” (Hua, has it happened?)
– and he would often nod sheepishly. But
I digress. At this moment, he was busy
cleaning himself with some stalks of grass and a handkerchief).

Suddenly
(and I don’t know how), I found myself tripping and sliding many feet
down. I leaned forward to slow my fall and the friction on the rocks did the rest. After the initial shock, I didn’t mind too
much; it had saved me the trouble of walking down some especially steep
sections. My hands were grazed but not
terribly. It was only when I stood up
that I realized that my clothes had been torn to shreds at the back. I wondered what to do. “Exchange T shirts with Hua who is just a size bigger than you,” muttered an unfazed RV. I waited for Hua and
then requested a swap of T shirts (fortunately the kite had only dumped on his head
and not his clothes; of course I would have taken his shirt in any condition). His long T shirt amply covered my backside
and he gallantly donned my tattered one).
When we reached the bottom of the hill, everyone was focussed on their
drinks and didn’t pay any attention to our strange garb. Once more I boarded the local train with a
sigh of pleasurable relief.

It has been
many years since I visited Tekal but a recent video from the RV lab
reminded me of my previous experiences.
It is quite a terrific snippet of a long trek, and the photographer, Siddharth Patel, has
kindly allowed me to use it here. I
attach a link to the site:

My Blog And I

My early education was at Happy Hours, Gyan Bharati School and St. Stephen's College at Delhi. I trained as a scientist from the department of Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry and the department of Cell Biology (Yale University) and the National Centre for Biological Sciences (Bangalore). Subsequently I did a two year stint at the Government Ayurvedic College (Bangalore). I currently study and teach Yoga and am a freelance writer in India.
This blog is about things that fill my mind and life - stray thoughts, nature, travel, food, alternative and traditional healing, science, poetry, performing arts and other engaging stuff.